


Riddlekith

by Milieu



Category: Calvin & Hobbes, Changeling: The Lost, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Changelings, Crossover, Gen, Reality Bending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milieu/pseuds/Milieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some imaginations can't be contained, even by the magic of Faerie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riddlekith

Rosalyn was _not_ getting paid enough to deal with this.

The money wasn't the most important thing, of course, but when one was carrying out an elaborate ruse of being a broke college student to cover for the fact that one was actually a broke Autumn Court researcher, it was a significant factor. She might not actually be paying tuition, but she was paying Court tithes and rent and bills from that arm-twisting Wizened who had stitched her up after that run-in with some briarwolves a few months back and always asked mockingly how her new cardio workout was going for her.

(It was going great, thank you very much. She'd nearly matched Charlie the last time she challenged him to a race, and he had the obvious advantage when it came to physical competition.)

It wasn't that Calvin was a terror to babysit (though he was) or that looking after him took away her time with her fellow Courtiers and Charlie (though it did). Being in this neighborhood always made her hair stand on end regardless of which house she was going to or how long she'd be there. The Hedge gate nestled in the middle of the woods that bordered the neighborhood made sure of that. Calvin's escapades, undeterred by time of day or season or sensibility, made sure of that.

And that was without even touching the issue of the tiger.

Hobbes, Calvin called it - him. (Rosalyn had spent the longest time wondering if the name was some kind of elaborate joke on the part of his parents.) He carried Hobbes around with him everywhere, talked to him, and always seemed as though he was getting some kind of answer back regardless if anyone else could see it or not. Rosalyn had asked his parents about it once - or not really asked, but casually mentioned how lucky Calvin was to still have one of his baby toys, since he was obviously so attached to Hobbes more than anything else he owned.

It was good that she had a lot of practice keeping a cool head and calm facade in the face of unknowable terror. Neither of the parents had noticed her split-second of horror when Calvin's dad off-handedly said that Calvin hadn't been gifted Hobbes, but had found him out in the woods one day in oddly good condition.

So that was her situation. Stuck in this place for hours on end with a hellion of a child and his fae-craft toy, whatever its purpose might be. Rosalyn knew magic, and she knew the Fae, but Hobbes was an enigma to her. She'd examined it (him) as closely as possible, since Calvin was loathe to let go of him even for an instant. And she found... almost nothing. No hint of the malevolent taint that clung to most things crafted by the True Fae like a second skin. There was something magic in the tiger, alright, but even Rosalyn, with her piles of books and the seeming decades that she'd spent slaving away in Arcadia deciphering texts that should have never been seen by mortal eyes, was at a loss as to what it might be.

So she spent her hours there and watched the woods for any signs of trouble, and was terrorized by Calvin and sometimes terrorized him in turn, both for the catharsis and the glamour that spun into being from his innocent fear, and she reflected how very true it was that she was not, and never would be, paid enough for it.

And then Calvin went missing.

\---

Oh, he didn't go missing in the usual way that kids did. Of course not. That would be far too easy - harrowing and maybe horrifying, yes, but far too normal for Calvin. In fact, no one even knew that he'd been missing at all until Rosalyn showed up on a Friday evening and was greeted by Calvin's parents - and the thing.

He'd gotten lost in the woods last weekend, his mother explained quietly to Rosalyn as his dad gave him the usual run-down of what the night's rules were supposed to be. They and several neighbors had been out searching almost overnight before they found him. He'd been withdrawn since then, shaken up from his ordeal (whatever it had been) but they were quite sure he'd be back to his usual rambunctious self in no time, so maybe she ought to enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

And he'd lost Hobbes.

That was the thing that kept his parents' faces shadowed with worry, Rosalyn knew right away. They'd brought Calvin (or someone who looked like him) home but not Hobbes, and Calvin (or someone who looked like him) had hardly put up a fuss. Barely mentioned his stuffed tiger at all, his parents said. It was quite something, considering all the fits he'd pitched in the past when forcibly separated from his favorite toy for even short periods of time.

Rosalyn was told all of this, and she nodded, and promised that she'd call if anything went amiss. She smiled and waved Calvin's parents off to their dinner, and marched Calvin (or someone who looked like him) up to his bedroom once it got dark, and managed to not shudder when the thing smiled at her (but only barely).

As soon as Calvin's bedroom door clicked shut behind her, Rosalyn dashed back downstairs for the phone.

\---

Calvin was lost. Not _lost_ lost, in that he'd gone and gotten himself all turned around in the woods and needed help like some kind of sissy, just a little bit lost. He'd just never been this deep in the woods before, was all. Or maybe there was some kind of invasive species thing going on, they'd read about those in class and he'd paid attention just long enough to glean that invasive species were foreign plants and animals that moved in and took over ecosystems, rather than invading aliens or anything cool like that. He was certain that he'd never seen these great thorny bushes all along the paths in the woods before.

"We're lost," Hobbes said unnecessarily. He prowled alongside Calvin, looking suspiciously at their surroundings. Tigers had good instincts for when something Just Wasn't Right, he'd told Calvin. The best instincts, in fact. He'd told Calvin this no less than four or five times before Calvin told him to zip it because he was going to give them both the heebie-jeebies, and then they'd be lost _and_ heebie-jeebified. Nonetheless, something was definitely Just Not Right about this situation.

"And I'm trying to get us _un_ -lost, fleabag. So how about you make yourself useful with all of those tiger senses instead of just telling me what I already know, huh?" Hobbes was smart enough - or caring enough - not to comment on the waver in Calvin's voice, though he tensed as the shadows around them seemed to lengthen, the thorny hedge appearing just a shade taller than it had been before.

Hobbes might have been intended as a lure, after all, but a maker's intent can only do so much to overcome a predator's protective instinct over its charge. That was without even going into the details of how an individual personality might be shaped. Fae-craft was a tricky thing, even for the Gentry, and strong enough minds and hearts can shape magic just as well as the reverse.

In the distance, something howled.

Calvin would never admit it, but he huddled closer to Hobbes's shadow. Hobbes tensed further, claws unsheathing. The Hedge grew taller and darker, thorny tendrils reaching inwards.

Almost imperceptibly to anyone who didn't know him inside and out, Hobbes began to  _change_.

"H-Hobbes?"

Hobbes didn't reply, eyes fixed ahead on the suddenly shadowed and twisting path ahead. There were more howls now, closer, louder. Beyond them, something impossibly tall with branching antlers and empty, glowing eye sockets stalked.

" _Hobbes_!?"

"Quiet." Hobbes's growl held a tinge of something wild and unfamiliar. Calvin gripped his leg and sniffled, all bravado gone.

There was a voice, or something that was supposed to resemble a voice, deep, loud, resonating. It was a noise that no living thing should - or likely could - make. Calvin's grip tightened.

Hobbes's form rippled. "I think now would be a good time for Spaceman Spiff to turn his blaster all the way up to 'lethal'."

"Okay," Calvin agreed without questioning, and as he curled his hand as if gripping the handle of a gun, he found a weight settling into his palm. It was familiar in thought, if not in form. "S-Spaceman Spiff..."

"The intrepid, fearless Spaceman Spiff," Hobbes added.

Calvin nodded, tightening his grip on the blaster. The ground around his feet hardened, solidifying into a dry, rocky landscape, moss and thorns receding. "The  _intrepid, fearless_ Spaceman Spiff is at it again, cornered by vicious alien hunters from the planet Grokk." He set his jaw and squared his shoulders. "But all is not lost!"

"Hope is never lost," Hobbes said, voice dry and sandpapery and growling all at once.

"No! With his trusty dire cat, the king of the Alubian jungle, at his side, Spiff can face any odds!"

Hobbes's snarling, too-wide and toothy maw settled into something that might have been a grin. The Hedge receded, revealing a sky wheeling with bizarre colors that no human had ever seen, looming planets and impossible star formations. Calvin flicked down the visor of his spacesuit, blaster held high.

The True Fae may believe they own the Hedge, but they are not the only ones who can shape it.

The howls were closer, loud enough to rattle you to the bone. Closer, closer...

Something huge and furry with crazed eyes and a gaping maw burst through the thorns. Calvin and Hobbes were ready.

"Taste deep-fried death, you hideous aliens!"

\---

Charlie scratched his head, regarding Rosalyn uncomfortably. The base of his horns always seemed to itch whenever she gave him that look that said they were faced with yet another seemingly-unsolvable problem. And she expected him to help solve it.

"I don't know how to help you here," he admitted.

Rosalyn huffed. "Just give me ideas!" He could tell that she wanted to yell in frustration, but she was keeping her voice low so as not to alert the Fetch upstairs. "I can't get rid of it without getting him back."

"Not while you're supposed to be responsible for him, no..."

"Not at  _all_ , Charlie! We don't know what it knows, how much magic it has. And if we destroy it and then Calvin escapes and gets back here later, how is anyone going to explain that?"

Charlie sighed, letting his hands drop to his sides. "If we destroy it and do a good job cleaning up after ourselves, nobody will know that he didn't just wander off again. That's the perfect cover for getting together a Court search party without anyone calling the cops on a bunch of weirdos stumbling around in the woods."

Rosalyn's frown deepened, and he had to bite back another sigh. As much glee as she sometimes took from terrorizing people, Rosalyn abhorred real violence. Even against a simulacrum of a human made from twigs and scraps of cloth and automated by magic, she abhorred it. The fact that this particular one was wearing the face of a child that she knew could only make it harder.

"Look," he said gently, laying his hands on her shoulders. "We don't have to take care of it right now. We can put a notice out to Summer, you know they'll be frothing at the mouth at the chance to save a kid and maybe do some damage to the Others in the middle of their own season. You can just keep an eye on things for now."

She was still frowning at him, mouth almost set in a pout, scrawling words unpronounceable by any human mouth crawling across her paper-white skin. Charlie leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and was satisfied to feel her relax a minuscule amount.

He was just about to offer making some tea and maybe sneaking some cuddling on the couch before Calvin's parents returned home when there was a blinding flash from somewhere beyond the backyard, and the (relative) peace of the evening was shattered by howls and yelling.

Rosalyn was at the back door before Charlie could even get his bearings, and damn if he couldn't still take a moment to appreciate how quickly and gracefully she could move when she sprang into action.

"Calvin!"

\---

Chaos. Confusion. Howling. Screaming. Some kind of noise that sounded a lot like a Star Wars sound effect, if Charlie took the time to stop and think about it.

The Hedge gate gaped open like a wounded mouth, spilling out strange, rocky soil and a small boy clutching a battered stuffed animal and... was that a gun? Who gave a kid a gun?

He didn't have any more time to ponder on irresponsible childcare practices though, as the unmistakable shape of a briarwolf loomed in the opening in the Hedge. Rosalyn started towards it but Charlie's gift for speed quickly let him outstrip her. Neither of them quite made it before Calvin whirled and aimed, and the stuffed animal  _shifted_ somehow, and where there had been a briarwolf was now a shredded, charred mess.

Charlie and Rosalyn stood there in stunned silence for a long moment. There was an ominous, chilling groaning from beyond the thorns, but the Hedge was receding now. Rosalyn took the opportunity to dive for Calvin and scoop him into her arms, almost laughing with relief. She didn't think she'd  _ever_ been glad to see the little monster, much less glad enough to hug him.

Calvin, for his part, caught sight of her papery skin and liquid black eyes and tried to flail out of her grip. "Augh! Hobbes, the aliens got Rosalyn!" Charlie could have sworn he saw the stuffed animal twitch menacingly towards Rosalyn, but she gave it a withering look and it fell still.

"I guess you could say the aliens did get me, once upon a time," she said, gentler and more fondly than she'd ever spoken to Calvin before. He squirmed a bit more until her words really sunk in, and then he stilled. One could perhaps say that he looked thoughtful.

He also looked strikingly normal, for someone who had spent at least a weekend (in mortal time, anyway) at the mercy of the Hedge. If one looked closer, though, the veneer of normality (such as one could ever call Calvin so) began to fall away. There were lines like heat distortions around him every so often, and gazing through the air that they warped made the landscape look strange, altered somehow. Colors and shapes were off, more vibrant, changing as quickly as one could think of them.

Charlie didn't even want to know how or why this kid had somehow acquired a real life laser gun. He wasn't even getting paid for this nonsense like Rosalyn was.

He could already see the gleam in her eyes, though, the way she always got when something she didn't recognize appeared in front of her. At least he could be secure in the knowledge that he wasn't the only one wondering just what on earth this kid had become - or had already been, if the possessed plush toy was anything to go by.

"This is going to be one he-  _heck_ ," he quickly caught himself when Rosalyn shot him a glare. "One heck of a report to give to the monarchs."

Rosalyn sighed. "And one heck of a magic education."

"Magic?" Calvin's eyes had grown wide, but he still looked skeptical. "It was aliens. Or... something. Monsters."

Charlie thought it over for a moment, and then nodded. "Monsters."

Like the maybe-monster that probably wasn't sleeping anymore inside the house. The something-or-other inside the stuffed animal. Any number of weird and unnatural things out there in the world, human or fae.

Their work was only getting started.

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this was a lot longer in the making than I intended it to be. I don't know why it took me so long to realize how well CtL and Calvin and Hobbes would fit together, but here we are.
> 
> For anyone wondering, I intended for Rosalyn to be a Darkling Antiquarian and Charlie to be a Beast Runnerswift. Riddlekith is not an actual kith in the source material but a spell, but I thought it fitting for Calvin.


End file.
